


Rose Red

by Blitzindite



Series: Home Sweet Home [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Aged/Old Character, Angst, Gen, Ghost Chase, Haunted House, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Touch, Sorcerer Marvin, Suicide mention, Touch-Starved, monster au, sentient building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16458314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: It was rumored that it was haunted by the spirit of a child: Playful, curious, but quick to grow upset. It was rumored that a sorcerer resided within the topmost floor, and the child’s spirit was a means to keep explorers from finding the man through an ever-changing maze of hallways.





	Rose Red

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank someone from DeviantArt for this idea! They brought up how my versions of the Septic, Iplier, and Sanders Sides’ (haven’t written for the last one, but I’ve talked about it a good amount with them) buildings reminded them of Stephen King’s Rose Red, hence the title. I still need to watch the series—might give me some more ideas for the buildings! So for now, have something Halloween-inspired since I won’t get around to a picture!  
> This is an AU where the Egos aren’t actually Egos and their creators have nothing to do with them.

The dark green building, paint peeling and windows cracked, stood secluded just outside the city. Its name had been lost to the city’s inhabitants long ago, most of its former occupants gone for even longer. The building loomed just above the treetops, topmost windows peeking just over them to watch the city beyond.

 

It was rumored that it was haunted by the spirit of a child: Playful, curious, but quick to grow upset.

 

It was rumored that a sorcerer resided within the topmost floor, and the child’s spirit was a means to keep explorers from finding the man through an ever-changing maze of hallways.

 

It was rumored that the most stubborn of explorers, of _intruders,_ who wouldn’t leave even as the spirit grew agitated were the ones who would be driven to break down and cry as they became lost in the maze.

 

The rumors grew popular. The explorers grew bolder, more reckless.

 

With only two of its former occupants left—the others having fled when bloodlust, or animal instinct, or just plain fear overwhelmed them with their transformations—the building grew desperate. It wanted to protect those who remained. It wanted them to be safe. Intruders were unwanted. Intruders were a danger.

 

The building groaned under Marvin’s feet, and the man’s head snapped up and toward the window. He stood stiffly, cape practically swallowing his frail form and mask hiding sunken eyes and an ashen face, as he moved around the desk to peer outside. From out there, his window—the entire floor itself—wasn’t visible. The building appeared only seven stories tall, while the sorcerer was actually on the twenty-fifth floor. The house had always held a strange magic that not even he could understand.

 

“Teenagers.” The voice behind him was familiar and welcome. “They’re just teenagers. I can probably scare ‘em out, man.”

 

Marvin turned away from the window to face the other. Chase still looked so young. His hair hadn’t turned gray, or eyes dull, or fingers knobby and sore. His eyes were so bright Marvin could almost be fooled into thinking he was alive. But the light wouldn’t hit him; no shadows cast even by the snapback pulled low over his face as the light passed through him as if he wasn’t even there, while a strange glow—hard to see unless one strained their eyes—surrounded him like an aura. It was almost like an unfinished painting standing right in front of the sorcerer.

 

Chase was tethered to Central. Ghosts couldn’t leave their place of death, after all.

 

That, and the building itself, were why Marvin stayed. Even as it hurt to walk, as his joints ached, as the wrinkles hidden by his mask deepened. Chase had lost so much and Central…it wasn’t itself anymore. He feared it would hurt someone sooner rather than later as more people attempted to explore its halls. He would stay right there with them until his age finally caught up to him.

 

He nodded in response to Chase, and the ghost flickered out of existence.

 

Hands ringing together in an attempt to massage the ache from his knuckles, Marvin limped toward the doorway. He pushed his mask up, rested his forehead against the worn wood of the frame, and listened.

 

He could feel more than hear the sounds of the old building as it “spoke” to him. There was a hint of worry in how it creaked, or the light behind him flickered in Central’s strange language. It recognized that the man had grown old and that, as a human, his time would be drawing near. It worried for him. Had already started to mourn for the sorcerer.

 

Marvin managed a small smile and patted the door frame affectionately.

 

“S’okay,” he murmured, “It’s okay. You just promise me you’ll take care of Chase. Whatever it takes.”

 

There was no reason for Marvin to face the same fate as the former vlogger. No reason for him to be trapped in Central. Chase’s death had been sudden, violent, as he was filled with grief and anger when he’d pulled that trigger, whereas Marvin knew his was coming and was at peace with that fact as he grew more tired. As he found it easier to relax but harder to pull himself out of bed, or his chair, or the couch.

 

His smile widened a little when the building agreed to the promise.

 

Pushing himself away from the frame, Marvin left his study; tome abandoned and open on the desk. “What floor’s Chase on?” The walls creaked, and when Marvin turned the corner, found himself on the first floor. Even with Central constantly changing its layout, the maze of hallways never the same way twice, there was a certain familiarity from living there for so long.

 

There were two teens huddled together as an invisible force tore up the room around them: Empty picture frames banging on the walls, chairs Marvin didn’t remember being there before being thrown about, paper flying around the room, a mirror falling off the wall and nearly landing on one of the boys. The old man rolled his eyes—it looked like something out of a paranormal film, which was probably exactly where Chase had gotten the idea.

 

As the mirror shattered, the teenagers squeaked and bolted upright. They took one look at Marvin, eyes wide, before taking off through the opposite hall.

 

There was no way they would want to come back after that, and Central was bound to show them to the exit now, so Marvin turned his attention to the mess before him. He felt Chase move to his side moments before the ghost made himself visible.

 

“I-I don’t like doin’ that to kids, man.”

 

“Scaring them off is better than hurting them.” When he was met only by silence, Marvin tipped his head to the hall. “C’mon. I’d like to go back to my study.”

 

His companion was silent at his side. Chase didn’t need to walk with the sorcerer and could have very easily “blinked” up to the study, but he’d been doing so far less often. Marvin was pretty sure Central had asked the ghost to stay with him as the man grew more frail.

 

“Have…have you heard anything about…” Chase trailed off and shook his head.

 

Marvin smiled. Chase’s memory was spotty at times, but he always wanted to know how his kids were doing, even after so many years. “I got a call from Jackie about them this morning, actually. Sophie’s doing really well, and Kyler’s kid is getting married in a few weeks. Said her dress is beautiful.”

 

“…Married?” The ghost furrowed his brows and glared at the floor. “It hasn’t been that long, has it? She was just a baby…yesterday?”

 

Central gave a creak and Marvin shook his head. Chase couldn’t keep track of the time anymore. No matter how hard he tried. “She’s twenty-six now.”

 

“I…must’ve lost track of time.” There was a long pause. “That means you’re…seventy-eight? Right?”

 

“…Yes.” It sounded so strange out loud. Made it too real, and the floor beneath them gave a sad squeak as Central registered the number.

 

The man looked up at the door to his study, gave the frame another friendly pat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even had to use stairs because Central just shifted to get the sorcerer where he wanted. It was probably a good thing. Marvin wasn’t sure his body could handle too many stairs, or too long a walk, anymore.

 

Settling himself onto the couch, Marvin tipped his head to the other empty cushion. Chase didn’t hesitate to sink down next to him. The sorcerer watched as his companion made his form solid, as the light finally hit him and eyes were cast in shadow from his cap. Chase reached out and took one of Marvin’s hands, giving it a light squeeze even as the man grimaced from the pain the unexpected touch caused.

 

“You look tired, man.” He pulled Marvin’s faded mask off and set it on the armrest beside him, fingers moving to comb through tangled gray hair. It was soothing, and Marvin found himself leaning into Chase’s shoulder. He knew this wouldn’t last long: Keeping a solid form took a lot out of the ghost. But he relished in the physical contact he’d been missing for so long while he could. “Why don’t ya sleep?”

 

He didn’t seem to register as the room around them groaned. Was Central asking a question? Or was it worrying again?

 

“What’s wrong, Cents?” he finally murmured, opening tired eyes to look toward the study’s only overhead light. It flickered before falling dim. Marvin offered a small smile at that, “You’re always worried,” before closing his eyes again and relaxing into Chase’s touch.

 

There was something so strange about having his head close to a chest that lacked a heartbeat; that Chase didn’t have the breath to stir the old man’s hair. His body was cold, yet Marvin found comfort against his shoulder; head tucked under his chin. The others had left so long ago: Jackie, and Henrik, and…Jamie…and…

 

When Marvin’s breath slowed after he’d finally nodded off, Chase pulled away. He carefully maneuvered the other so he was laying comfortably on the couch; knelt at its side to brush his fingers through the man’s hair a few more times.

 

“…You… Y’know he’s not wakin’ up tomorrow. You can feel it, can’t you?” Chase turned away from his old friend to face the dim light. “I-I’ve felt it for a while now.”

 

The building’s silence said far more than any sound could have.

**Author's Note:**

> …This turned out a lot sadder than I intended. It was supposed to be more horror-like. Oof.  
> Originally supposed to be a one-shot. Will now be a multi-chapter fic.


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